


Shit happens

by akane171



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek will be tortured, F/M, Lydia should forget about alcohol, M/M, coincidences happen, english translation of Przypadki chodzą stadami, life sucks, stupid but funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akane171/pseuds/akane171
Summary: What can you do, when you get an invitation for your ex’s wedding? On your fucking birthday?Well, you can act like a mature person and search for a dress.Or you can get tanked and puke on a potential prince charming.After all, Lydia Martin was always a fan of unconventional solutions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, folks.

It was not her day. Or evening. Or night. Definitely.

Everything had started when she opened the door and found a freaking wedding invitation for Jackson’s forsaken wedding. It was lying innocently among birthday cards lying on her doormat and was waiting for her to pick it up, open and split coffee all over it.

Lydia was expecting it, of course. Still, she had no fucking idea how in the world Danny was able to put up with that idiot and wanted to spend a whole life with him. Whatever, there was no accounting for taste. Besides, there was a time when she was dreaming about becoming a future Ms. Whittemore. Jackson was very rich and handsome, with beautifulbody of a Greek god, he was a perfect candidate for future opportunities.

Too bad that he was also a prick and couldn’t find a clit even with a help of GPS. It didn’t change the fact she really loved that idiot and was crushed when he called her a “dead weight” and broke up with her on the front of entire school. Another thing that was crushed that memorable day was Jackson’s nose, when she punched it with her anatomy textbook. The final word was hers. Always.

Angrily slurping her coffee and staring hatefully at the invitation, she concluded few, very annoying, things.

First of all, the years have passed but she still felt some kind of stupid affection for Jackson. Sometimes, she got a very annoying impression that she could come back to him. After the high school graduation they had some “coming back episodes” but every single one ended in the same, spectacular and unpleasant (especially for him) way.  
Finally, Jackson met Danny and even Lydia had to admit that they were a pair made in heaven. Still, it didn’t change the fact that sometimes, she liked to wonder about alternative universes, where they could be a normal and happy couple instead of a sadomasochistic disaster. Probably, it would end with her murdering him with a cold blood no matter what, but whatever, you could dream right?

Secondly, Lydia had no luck with guys. After Jackson there was a short story with Peter Hale. It lasted for two weeks and it seriously was a big mistake. There was Aiden, who didn’t have problems with finding her clitoris and was quite imaginative in the bed. Unfortunately, beside moving furniture together they shared nothing in common. Next, there was one night stand with Stiles, what was a very BIG mistake and both had to agree that friendship, drinking and bed were not mixing well. Moral decay that hit them hard on the next morning almost ended their friendship.

But there was one good thing about it. Derek Hale who heard some gossips about their little, sweaty rendezvous, probably felt a pang of jealousy, swallowed his infamous pride and after three years of casual flirting he asked Stiles out. Lydia was pretty sure they were going to tie the knot too.

Another and the most annoying thing was: all her ex-boyfriends were going to attend Jackson’s wedding. With their beautiful partners. And Lydia was alone and she liked her marital status, but… going to your ex’s wedding alone was pathetic. Degenerating. Absolutely not Lydia Martin’s style.

And the last one, it was her 25th birthday. Kira, Allison and Malia were out-of-town, so she had no friends to booze it up. Future Nobel prizewinners didn’t drink alone like losers, right? Some of her students might spot her in the club and gossip about her pathetic ass… Yeah…

An hour later, looking like a goddess, she entered her favorite night club. Four hours, fifteen drinks and twenty four “go to hell” lines said to drunken assholes later, swaying on her legs, she got out with one mission – to find a cab, go home and cry out her twenty five years old crisis into a fluffy, pink pillow. Unfortunately, some bimbo stole her cab.

Thank God, public transport existed.

Too bad that God had other problems that day and didn’t pay attention.

  
*

All Jordan Parrish wanted that night, was just to exit the damned bus, put his tired ass on a bed and sleep for the next two days. Sucked to be him, but of course he couldn’t – his next shift was starting in six damned hours. It was all Derek Grumpy Hale’s fault. He asked (aka grumbled) him to switch their shifts today. Hale wanted to celebrate their first anniversary with his boyfriend.

Jordan agreed, because he still was a new guy on the police station (he’d moved here a month ago) and he desired a peaceful relationship with his new and very silent partner. Seriously, who didn’t want to be on good terms with Derek Hale? Probably suicides and masochists only.

That’s why he was dead tired and just stood on the bus, clutching a handhold with closed eyes and half asleep brain. This was the reason why he didn’t notice a new passenger, who entered the bus and stopped right in front of him with narrowed eyes.

He noticed something strange was going on, when he felt two super cold hands on his cheeks. When he slowly opened his eyes, he saw an unusual view.

In front of him a little, green eyed girl with a unkempt hair and mascara smeared all over her teary face was standing. The air she was exhaling was intoxicating and a bunch of kindergarten kids would get tipsy after spending five minutes in her company.

Jordan tried to remember if he could give her a ticket when he was off duty. But before he reached a proper article in his tired mind, she smiled a little nightmarishly and hiccupped.

“Jackssssssson, darrrrling!”

“You should take a better care of your girlfriend, young man.” An old guy, who was sitting near them, said accusingly.

“She is not my -” But before he could finish, she threw up straight at his beloved sweatshirt.

And then, because this night just had to become funnier, she threw herself at him and fainted.

*

“You’re shitting me.” Jordan said to a taxi driver, looking through the window.

“Nope, this is the address, pal.” The driver sounded annoyingly cheerful. “Your girl doesn’t like to waste her drinks, huh?” He asked and glanced at the snoring red haired scarecrow.

“She’s not my girl.” Jordan sighed and glared at her.

Lydia Martin (according to her ID), was sleeping soundly, wrapped in his stinky sweatshirt. When he dragged her out of the bus, she was shivering from the night cold, so he put his not-so-clean-anymore sweatshirt on her. Lydia didn’t look like she minded. She just blabbered something about differentials, quantum physics and some asshole named Jackson. Then she’s hiccupped for two minutes and fell asleep. God bless, because he could check her purse in peace and find her fucking address (Lydia claimed she was living in some alternative universe where she was a banshee - what the hell was she drinking?!).

What brought them here.

Jordan glared at the super big mansion. He killed the urge to just drop her on a doormat, knock and evacuate his ass as fast as possible. He got a nasty suspicion that another “she is not my girlfriend” shit was going to happen and he didn’t want to be scold by a rich and protective mommy. He was too tired to explain why a total stranger was bringing home someone’s crying and super drunk daughter.

On the other hand, his deputy’s alter ego wanted to have a little talk with her parents about shitty upbringing and how drinking alone and throwing up at strangers could have ended… Though, he had to admit that puking on a potential rapist was not a bad idea… Whatever, he was too tired to educate citizens.

“Wait for me.” He said to the taxi driver, opened the door and pulled Lydia out.

Fortunately for both, she woke up and was moving her legs, more or less, so he didn’t have to carry her in his arms. What, with his fantastic luck tonight, could have ended badly with them falling from the stairs and landing among the roses.

“Jacksssssson, I love you.” Lydia said when they stopped at the doormat and he pushed the button.

“Uhm, thanks.” He chose to not correct her. Probably, she would get confused or just scream and make his night more miserable (IF it was possible). Besides, for sure she was not going to remember anything tomorrow.

“I love you… but you’re motherfr… furk… fork…” Lydia comically furrowed her brows.

“Motherfucker.” Jordan sighed.

Lydia smiled at him radiantly, clumsily patted his cheek (and almost scratched his eye out) and then of course her mother just had to appear.

The woman had opened her mouth to scold two intruders but then she spotted the girl.

“Lydia! What’s the meaning of this?!” She growled like a lioness, ready to protect her cub.

“Hello ma’am.” Jordan used his standard smile nr 5 (usually used for charming old female and not cooperative clerks). “I think I found something that belongs to you.” And he pushed Lydia gently.

“Heeeeeey mom.” The girl landed, not very gracefully, in Mrs. Martin’s arms, but Jordan didn’t see it, because he turned on his heel and tactically ran away.

The taxi driver, who probably was used to situations like this one, stepped on the accelerator when Jordan hopped into the car.

“This is how you finish your dates?” The guy sounded like he wanted a chat.

“Yup.” Too bad Jordan was not in a mood. All he wanted was a shower and his bed.

But for now, he was thinking how he seriously didn’t want to see Miss Martin EVER again. Yes, under the layer of ruined make up a pretty face was hiding. More than pretty, to be honest. And she sounded amusingly interesting, like a girl you would not get bored with. But she was also problematic, was not a heavy drinker and had a super scary and wealthy mother and yes, he had an inferiority complex of a not rich peasant from Iowa.

And, what was most important, it looked like she was not a single.

*

Lydia was woken up by a horde of running elks. Or by a division of charging tanks. Because that horrible noise could not be made by a single, fucking fly?

She slowly opened her eyes and realized she was in her old room in the Martin’s mansion. How the hell she ended here? A horrible headache, awful taste in her mouth (did she eat a dead rat or something?), thirst and holes in her memory suggested that her last night was successful.

Cloudy memories were slowly scratching her brain. Invitation. Being pissed off at Jackson. The club. Her ex on the bus? Impossible. But how the hell she woke up in her parents’ house?

She spotted her purse on a nighstand, so she reached for it and dug out her cell. 69 missed calls… 123 unread SMS-s… Right, her birthday was yesterday. Probably people started to worry, when she didn’t answer.

Lydia blinked and put her cell away. She was not going to deal with her screaming friends before morning coffee. No way in hell. Slowly she got up and crawled to the kitchen and sat at the table.

Without a word, but with a meaningful look on her face, Natalie Martin put a cup of a coffee in front of her daughter and sat down. Lydia moaned, took a long sip and tried to avoid her mother’s suspicious stare. Call her a pessimist, but the infamous Mama Martin’s scolding was coming.

After few minutes of disturbing silence before the storm, Natalie asked:

“So, will you tell me about your new boyfriend or not?”

Lydia almost choked on her coffee. “Who?” She asked confused.

“That charming and quite handsome young gentleman who brought you home yesterday.” Natalie smiled like a predator. “Because I refuse to believe, that my proper, well-mannered and responsible only daughter has drunk herself silly and spent some time with a stranger man. Right, honey?”

The red head had to admit – her mother’s smile could be very scary.

“Well, he’s my… workmate.” Lydia said finally, praying she sounded convincingly.

“Hmm.” Natalie didn’t look convinced. She looked like she was planning a damned wedding.

Shit, so she wasn’t hallucinating Jackson but there was a real guy who took care of her? Well… he resembled her ex a little, but was taller, had prettier eyes and harder, well-muscled chest – she felt it when she fainted into his also nice-muscled arms and…

Lydia turned white.

“His sweatshirt….”

“I washed it, you need to turn it back.”

“Right.” Lydia mumbled.

She really, really hoped that she was not going to see him ever fucking again. NEVER. Too much embarrassment. There was a limit of embarrassing things she could do in a front of a guy and puking on him was crossing a line.

“By the way, Allison called.” Natalie took a sip with an innocent expression. TOO innocent. “She wants you to call back.”

Lydia felt a new wave of a massive headache approaching.

“Mother… You didn’t mention that guy, didn’t you?” She asked faintly.

“Honey, of course I did! I had to ask your best friend about this adorable young man.”

Lydia closed her eyes. Probably, right now, all her friends were discussing her not-existing love life and boyfriend.

Natalie hit her with a wiper, after she cursed loudly.

*

“Don’t. Even. Start.” She growled to her cell, steering her Toyota with one hand, cutting corners like a pro F1 driver.

“Start what? A talk about Mr. Mysterious?” Malia’s voice was full of satisfaction. “Come on, I need some details. We made a bet about who he is. Just please, don’t tell me it’s Greenberg.”

Lydia moaned loudly. After Kira, Allison, Scott and Stiles’ calls she has had enough.

“No, it’s not Greenberg just some random guy I won’t see ever again.”

“Too bad. You mom said he was a cutie.”

The red head rolled her eyes. “No… I mean, yes, he wasn’t bad.” Lydia sighed, she remembered him vaguely.

“I’m sure he looked fabulous in a sweatshirt with your barf all over it.” Her so-called friend said cheerfully.

“Seriously, Malia? SERIOUSLY?” Lydia growled again and stepped on the accelerator, to make it before the red light, but mission failed. Oops. “Friendly reminder, that you spilt beer all over a guy, not so long ago.”

“First of all, he was a misogynistic asshole. Secondly, it was just beer, not beer mixed with my DNA. But you puked on a guy who was decent enough to brought your drunken ass home without harassing you. I think your barf has tied you, it’s a supernatural bond, I tell you.”

“Malia… you are disgusting.”

“That’s why you love me!”

What was true. Allison was her oldest friend and they understand each other without words. Kira was sweet and lovely. And Malia was straightforward, loyal and she has never judged her. Lydia simply loved her to death.

Her thinking was disturbed by a police siren.

“Shit! I need to go, I’m going to get a ticket, damn!” She moaned and stopped the car.

“You getting a ticket? Pff, please! Come around after, we need to talk more about Mr. Mysterious.”

“Why? I’m not going to meet him ever again.”

“You can’t be sure. Maybe your supernatural barfing bond will bring you back together.” Malia laughed and ended the call.

“Right. And I am pope Francis.” Lydia mumbled and reached out for her purse.

She glimpsed at the police officer, who was getting off the patrol car. It was not Haigh or a deputy she knew, damn it, just some new guy she didn’t recognize. Lydia checked her make up quickly and started to dig up in her purse.

Lydia Martin has never gotten a ticket and was going to keep it that way.

“Oh, officer, I’m so sorry! I know I jumped the red light, but I’m in extremely hurry.” She was theatrically digging in her purse. “My mother just called, said it’s an emergency and I need to come back home as fast as I can.” She tucked some loose hair behind her ear.

“If I remember correctly, your mansion is in the opposite direction.”

She froze. That voice was suspiciously familiar and brought back some unpleasant memories. But the universe couldn’t be so cruel, right?

Lydia slowly raised her head and with mouth wide open, she looked at the handsome face of a man she would rather forget.

“Oh, shit.” Lydia said, before she could bite her tongue.

“Sorry, not shit, just Beacon Hills Police Department.” He said emotionlessly. “May I see your driving licence, miss?”

*

“What’s wrong with him?” Deputy Derek Hale asked Clarke and pointed Jordan with his chin. Parrish was sitting at his desk and staring blankly into the void without blinking.

“No idea, he acts like that since he’s returned from the patrol.” Valerie shrugged her shoulders. “He refused to testify, just sat down and looks like a donkey after lobotomy.”

Derek blinked confused, but didn’t comment. He went to make awful coffee and then stopped in front of Parrish’s desk, watching his new partner like a hawk. Derek liked Jordan. The guy knew when to shut up and had no problems with talking to problematic people, so usually Derek could do what he loved – stand behind and make scary faces. Besides, Parrish switched shifts with him, so he was able to have a nice day with Stiles. So, he could show some charity. Right?

“What’s up?” He asked.

Jordan didn’t say a word for few heart beats, then he sighed.

“I met the woman of my life today. Again.” He said emotionlessly.

Derek started to regret his question.

“So?” He asked and killed the urge to roll his eyes, but if Jordan wanted to make a pussy of himself, because a girl turned him down… Then Derek could happily kick his ass.

Jordan raised his head and looked at Hale with a face of a man who was facing a firing squad.

He had absolutely no idea how did it happen. He just stopped the blue Toyota that ran a red light and then he was standing like an idiot, while THE redhead was happily blabbering and digging in her purse. And then she looked at him, with her big, super green eyes and… his personality dived for two halves: one was crying in the dark corner of his mind, the second was acting like a professional asshole, because his brain refused to cooperate.

So, what he has done? Instead of inviting her for a date or asking about mothefucker Jackson?

“I gave her a ticket.” He said and put his forehead on his desk with a loud bang.

*

He gave her a ticket. HER. That asshole gave her a fucking ticket!

The worst part was, he acted like he didn’t recognize her! Like…! Like…! Like she didn’t puked on him yesterday! He was just standing there, super professional, while she was opening and closing her mouth, looking probably like a fish, and mumbling something mindlessly. Before she came back to her senses, he was disappearing behind the corner and she was clutching the freaking ticket in her hand.

That meant war.

She dialed a number and waited.

“Ahoy, queen! How’s my favorite party gir- ”

“Shut up, Stiles. I need data about deputy Parrish.”

“Jordan? Derek’s new and sweet partner? No way! He is too innocent to fall into your clutches!”

Lydia said nothing. She just waited, visualizing internally how Stiles was starting to sweat.

“Um, Lyds?”

“Info Stiles, or I will tell Derek about your most pathetic and embarrassing story form high school.”

“Embarrassing? There was absolutely nothing like that!”

“Second grade, miss Blake and the toilet paper. Friendly reminder that I have a video.” Lydia quipped sweetly.

“What do you want to know?!” Stiles sounded cheerfully and fake as fuck.

Lydia thought for a minute.

“Everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> If a kind soul would like to beta read this shit, it would be nice.


End file.
